


Please send me to hell instead

by galaxyeyedrops



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: M/M, So yeah, lots of spoilers for 137 though, not much negativeshipping, written before 138
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:59:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1354921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyeyedrops/pseuds/galaxyeyedrops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vector accidentally redeems himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please send me to hell instead

Sure he might have spent the first few years as a goody two shoes obnoxious enough to make Yuma Tsukumo proud, but he’s carefully refined the art of being a complete dick for centuries. Add in the fact that he was kinda proud of most of the things he’d done (especially the whole Rei Shingetsu plot. When Nasch was off being boring, which happened way more often than you’d think, Vector got into the habit of picking the memory of his reveal out of his Greatest Hits collection and giggling for hours), so you didn’t need that Tokunosuke brat’s grades to do the math.

 

So yeah, this was going to be awesome. Yuma’s throat was going to be sore after all that screaming (Vector didn’t plan for that but would more than happily take credit if that happened), Cheerleader #1 was sobbing, and Nasch looked as indifferent as usual.

 

Vector looked at Nasch more closely, hoping that maybe he’d see at least a fleeting microexpression betraying his delicious inner turmoil. And nope. All determination and no hesitancy. I mean, sure Vector had killed Nasch, his sister, and friends repeatedly but would it kill him to at least shed a tear or two? Vector was going full-blown waterworks for this thing so he might as well try to act sorry. But if there’s something Vector didn’t do, it was to give up, so he made his eyes just a tad bit more watery (but not too much cause this jacket was quality leather) and resolved to concentrate just a bit harder to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

 

It turned out that Vector concentrated a teensy bit too hard, and was so absorbed in his task that kinda forgot about the Very Important Duel that was taking place. He was then promptly reminded by the boomerang that smacked him in the side of the neck.

 

Vector’s first thought was “wow, rude” followed closely by “fuck, I missed the timing for that trap card”. He collapsed to the ground right afterwards, quickly being surrounded by Yuma Tsukumo, who was churning out more tears than Vector could ever hope to fake. It was kinda impressive, really. Don Thousand was cursing up a storm, but Vector ignored it, and after all that shit he pulled, he had it coming.   
It was pretty obvious that going “haha tricked you again, dumbass” wasn’t going to work after accidentally doing your fake heroic sacrifice properly. The best idea would be to ignore the friendly little voice in the back of his head that screamed for him to tear apart Yuma and Nasch from limb to limb, give a last last minute dramatic speech and pass away from this world peacefully.

 

Like he’d actually do that.

 

Vector lifted Yuma’s face, caressing it softly, then smirked and smashed his lips against his own.

 

Nasch’s gobsmacked expression made it totally worth it (It was kinda nice without it but that’s besides the point).

 

When he woke up, Vector was surrounded by light. He felt lighter than ever, almost weightless, and if this meant he somehow got sent to the Astral World, he’d stab himself all over again. There was nobody and nothing else around. Just him and a never-ending sea of white. Vector felt cheated. After all that he’d done, wouldn’t he get something like his very own express train to hell?

 

With nothing better to, Vector sat down (but only after spending a few hours screaming obscenities at everyone he’d ever met into the nothingness) and began to sing. Out loud, of course.

 

Somewhere around his eighty second rendition of The Song that Doesn’t End (being properly dead made his voicebox ridiculously powerful), an angry business-like woman appeared before him (who wasn’t naked nor transparent, thank non-Don Thousand God).

 

“Would you keep it down?” She said, her hairbun bobbing as she talked. “Some people are trying to work here!”   
Vector felt the edges of his lips curl up into a smile.

 

Okay, long story short, Miss 9 to 5 dealt with all the incoming traffic of dead people, a long and boring list of grandmas, hospital patients, and stupid teenagers that Vector wasn’t on.

 

Now, he’s sure that dying twice qualifies him to be pretty damn dead but unless if he can properly provide the year he first died, she isn’t bothering cause actually dealing with the dead is not her job.

 

She tells him to get lost and doesn’t come back, not even after fifty more rounds of his singing. He starts wandering around the void, trying to find her office until he trips in midair (if asked, Vector would totally say he jumped) and ends up hurtling thousands of feet downwards. Which, Vector thinks as he approaches terminal velocity, is a far better death than the whole “dying in Yuma Tsukumo’s arms thing”.

 

When he wakes up again (because this is seriously getting old), he’s back in his leather jacket with the tradeoff being that he’s transparent and floating.

 

He’s in a well-furnished room, all deep red and purple silk sheets, face to face with a toddler with a very familiar head of orange spikes who doesn’t even seem to notice him.

 

Seriously, where was his express train to hell?

**Author's Note:**

> I actually had no idea where I was going with this when I typed this up. Sorry.


End file.
